My reputation at the market was growing fast, I'd even bought a little place with a shade and a table for me to sell on.
As the saying went, Maribelle the Vendor Killer could either make you or break you. Luckily, I'd dodged the executioner's block and taken the high road to success.
Now, wealthy locals were flocking to me for my potions. My Appraisal skill allowed me to play the role of a specialist; I could scan their ailments and tell them upfront if my potions would work before they wasted a dime.
Of course, some came with things like HIV—diseases my current potions weren't magically equipped to scrub from their blood. Those were the ones I turned away. No sense in selling false hope when I was building a brand.
I was getting rich, and I was getting rich fast. People were already whispering a new title around the stalls: The Divine Doctor.
